Chapter 19
Tori rolled down the windows of her weathered compact car after having stopped by her apartment, allowing the fresh breeze and meager sunshine in. Her hands remained steady and calm on the steering wheel as the forest sped by on both sides. There was something to inner relaxation that so far seemed to be helping with her impact on devices. She’d even dropped by the grocery store to get supplies, and the automatic door had opened the second time she’d stood on the censor mat. Usually it took five or six times, and last week she’d had to wait until another shopper showed up before the door would open.
This time, once she’d concentrated, she had seen vibrations around the door. Waves?
Her clothes were packed in her bag in the back along with her guitar. It had been a while since she’d written a song, and the cabin would be the perfect place to give it a try.
First she’d drop off her stuff at Adam’s cabin, and then she needed to go check on Bear. She’d promised Simone, and besides, Bear seemed like a good guy. If nothing else, maybe he could give her the scoop on Adam. And on himself. Every time somebody talked about Bear, they seemed to be holding something back about him. It was time she figured out what.
She pulled up to Adam’s cabin, her back straightening at the sight of the yellow cab waiting next to a long log. Jumping out, she cautiously made her way toward the driver.
The guy, a blond about twenty years old with a long goatee, rolled down his window. “I dropped a man off, and he said he was going inside to get my money, but he hasn’t come back. I’m about to call the cops.”
Tori looked toward the open doorway and then started digging in her purse. “What does he owe you?”
“He promised five hundred.”
Tori stopped rummaging, her head snapping up. “What?”
The man shrugged. “Said he wasn’t feeling well and that he’d give me five hundred dollars if I got him here quietly. I did. That’s a valid contract.”
Why was the door open? “Um, okay. I’ll go get the money.” She skirted the cab and hustled up the wooden steps.
“Make it fast, or I’m calling the men in blue,” the guy yelled.
Her pulse kicked up a notch, and she used two knuckles to edge the door open more. Was it Bear? He really hadn’t been looking good the other night. Maybe he’d had to take a cab to get to Adam. She moved inside, seeing a man’s legs sticking out of the bedroom. “Bear?” She ran forward. Her heart stuttered. “Adam,” she whispered, dropping to her knees.
His eyelids opened. “There’s money in the top drawer.” Sweat dotted his upper lip and soaked through his T-shirt. “Pay the cabbie.” Then he shut his eyes again.
Panic swept her, and she jumped up, rifling through the drawer. A neatly tied stack of hundreds was pressed against the edge. She grabbed five and ran through the living room, leaping off the porch steps to hand the money through the passenger-side door. “Did he say what was wrong?” she asked the guy.
The cabbie nodded. “Yeah. Said it was a migraine. Looked like it hurt like hell.” The guy took in the crisp bills and smiled wide. “Call if you all need a ride anywhere else.” Tipping an imaginary hat, he rolled up the window and pulled around, zipping down the lane. She watched him go, confusion melding with panic inside her.
Did witches get migraines?
Turning, she ran up the steps and back into the room, seeing Adam now sitting with his back to the side of the fireplace. Maybe the migraine had something to do with the whole throwing fire and plasma. She reached him. “What’s wrong?” Her voice trembled.
He closed his eyes and swallowed, shoving himself up with one arm. He climbed to stand by using the wall, the muscles in his bicep bunching. “Got hit with planekite. Apollo darts.”
She gasped out, her lungs expelling all the air they held. Her ears rang. “Adam. What should I do?”
“Nothing.” He smiled, his lips looking a little blue. “Half of it is already out of my system. They only hit me with two darts, so I’ll be fine within an hour.” His hands fumbled at the base of his T-shirt. “I’m hot. Fucking hot.”
She moved toward him, drawing the shirt over his head. “Come lie down.” Taking his arm, she led him inside the cool bedroom. Her heart beat rapidly.
He sat and then stretched out on his back. “Shit burns as it pumps through the blood.”
“I figured.” She jogged to the bathroom and dampened a washcloth, returning to wipe it across his wide chest. He had to be okay.
He murmured. “Feels good.” Reaching out, he snagged her around the waist. “Cuddle.”
Cuddle? Did the most dangerous male she’d ever met use the word “cuddle”? She traced her fingers over his abs, and they rippled. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” she whispered, needing to offer comfort.
“Aye. The second dart just glanced me. My vision is already coming back.” He tightened his hold, partially rolling her to lie alongside him. “You feel good.”
“So do you.” She caressed his chest. He was already cooling. Good. The idea that somebody had harmed him, that he could actually be harmed, shot uneasiness through her. Honestly, from day one, she’d considered him nearly invincible. After discovering his true nature and seeing him fight, there hadn’t been any reason to change her mind. “What happened to the person who hurt you?” She slid her hand up and around his neck, her body relaxing at feeling the steadiness of his pulse.
“Shot one guy and threw the other off a roof.”
“Of course.” She smiled against his shoulder. “I mean, what else would you have done?”
He glanced over at her, his lips creasing into a grin. “That’s what I thought. Poked one guy’s eye out first.”
She laughed. It was a ridiculous statement to laugh at, but she couldn’t help it. Life had gotten way too bizarre.
He rolled over, right onto her, flattening her to the bed. “I love your laugh.” His eyes twinkled, and his face was only slightly feverish. “Laugh more.” The pads of his fingers rubbed along her ribs.
She stared, the oddest sense of wonder taking her. Adam in a playful mood? Well, it had only taken a lethal drug to bring that about. She laughed out loud at her own thoughts.
“That’s nice.” He lifted to his knees, bracketing her. Then he reached down and tugged her shirt up and over her head.
Her amusement darkened and deepened. “What are you doing?” she whispered, intrigue licking through her.
“Playing.” He slid his hand beneath her bra, cupping her breasts.
She arched, sensations torturing her. A throbbing set up between her legs. “You must be feeling better,” she gasped.
“I am.” He lifted the bra right up and over her head, forcing her arms up. Then he moved quickly, tying them in place. “I heal very quickly. ’Tis a gift, that.”
“Hey,” she said with a laugh. She struggled, but her wrists remained tied together by the soft silk. So she looked at him, trying to memorize every hard angle.
His bare torso, so strong and wide, made her lick her lips.
“I can’t have you disappointed,” he murmured, one finger hooking in the bra. He lifted her arms again, moved around a little, and then settled back on his knees.
She laughed and tried to pull her arms down. They didn’t move. She stilled. So much fire swept through her, she forgot how to breathe. He’d somehow secured her wrists and arms above her head. She tugged, and there was no give. The helplessness of her position, with him looking down at her, heated the desire inside her to molten lava. “How?” she asked.
One side of his mouth lifted, giving him the look of a pirate. “Let’s just say the iron headboard is wearing your bra.” He spread out his hands, fingers wide, over her chest. “With your arms attached.” Satisfaction lit his eyes a second before blue fire zapped along his palms and between his outstretched fingers.
She gasped, instinctively pressing into the bed, her eyes wide and focused on the fire poised above her very bare and delicate breasts.
“Fire burns, Victoria.” He slowly lowered his hands, and the fire sparked.
Her skin twitched, and she tried to hold perfectly still. “Don’t,” she whispered.
He smiled, his gaze warm on hers. “You don’t mean that.”
No, she really didn’t. The memories of what he could do with fire nearly sent her into an early orgasm. As if reading her mind, he angled his body and slid his knees back, pressing his hard shaft between her legs, over the jeans she still wore.
The feeling of him on top of her, so hard against her clit, was a form of sensual torture she had never imagined. With the fire crackling as a warning so close to her skin, she could do nothing but completely feel every sensation. Warmth from the flames. Softness against his steel hardness. Helplessness compared to his strength.
Relief that he had healed enough to play. To be strong for her again.
He finished lowering his hands, encasing her breasts in full blue fire. An all-consuming zap of heat pinched her nipples. She arched against him, crying out. An orgasm rushed through her out of nowhere, flashing the air to bright and then hazy, forcing her body to jerk against his hard cock.
His head lifted, and his eyes darkened. “That was lovely.” Low and guttural, his tone dug down deep inside her and took hold.
The fire sputtered out. He levered up and jerked her jeans off her legs. She may have murmured something, her body still out of her control. Then he stood and quickly removed his jeans.
She pulled against the restraints. “Let me go.” More than anything in the world, she wanted to touch his hard chest. Wanted to run her fingers over every angle and hollow. “Now.”
He moved back above her, settling against her, his dick against her core. His mouth pressed against hers, forming the word no.
She blinked. “Yes.”
He smiled, the movement soft against her mouth. “Not a chance.” Slowly, he began to penetrate her.
She breathed out, opening her legs, pushing against him to hurry him along.
He wouldn’t be rushed.
Instead, in total control, he inched inside her in minuscule increments, taking his time. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his biceps bulged on either side of her shoulders as he held himself in check, torturing them both. “Do you have any idea how lovely you are, bound for my pleasure?” he rumbled, his gaze hotter than the fire he’d already used.
Her fingers curled over the material of the bra. She shook her head slowly, allowing his sweet words to sink in. “I’ve never seen anything like you,” she whispered. He was more masculine than any ideal of a man she could’ve dreamed up on her best day.
He leaned down and kissed her, his lips firm and his tongue gentle. Sweeping inside her mouth, he took all of her, giving with such gentleness tears nearly pricked her eyes.
With a groan, he finally shoved all the way inside her.
She gasped, her body taken over. The bra secured her hands, and his solid body pinned her to the bed. She couldn’t move, even if she had wanted to. Her quick orgasm had just softened her for him, primed her body for what he could do. What he would do. His body, even without the fever, warmed her head to toe with an electrical burn.
He’d been inside her for nearly a minute, not moving, just pulsing. She bit her lip to keep from begging.
One of his hands clamped on top of her head, and he pulled out, shoving back in while holding her immobile. The forced helplessness sent shock waves along her every nerve, and she whimpered, needing more. Craving more. His eyes were strong and bright with desire . . . for her.
It hit her then, the realization that Adam Dunne was more than sex. More than just this moment. Somehow, when she hadn’t been looking, he’d slid right beneath her skin and into her heart. No matter what happened, she’d always remember him. Always carry a part of him with her. And even if she never saw him again, she’d still have this piece. She smiled at the thought.
His gaze caught. “Now that’s a stunning sight.”
He pulled out and pounded back in with enough force to push her hands against the bars. Pressure built inside her again, stronger and hotter than before. She lifted her knees to take more of him.
“Next time, I tie your legs, too,” he whispered, kissing her deep, taking whatever he wanted.
Her thighs trembled in response, and then her hips started to move, following his lead. The pressure continued to build in a delicious coil that threatened to blow her apart. She didn’t care. Only that peak, only that shocking wave of raw pleasure, only Adam’s body in hers mattered. Nothing else. No time, no worries, no future. Only right now and the devastating pleasure to be found with him.
He leaned down and pushed one arm beneath her thigh, opening her, showing just how much more helpless he could make her. “Come now, Victoria.”
She came apart as the coils inside her detonated, shooting sparks, taking everything. He thrust harder, going deeper, pushing her into a place of sweet agony. Just as she came down, he pressed his forehead to hers, and the spasms of his orgasm took him.
He flicked her wrists free and moved to the side, taking her with him. Tucking the blankets around them, he winced.
She bit her lip. Maybe it had been too soon for him after the darts. “Are you all right?”
His jaw went slack. He held out his arm and twisted his wrist, opening the palm of his hand.
She reached for it to see a stunning Celtic knot, slightly raised with jagged edges, on his palm. That hadn’t been there before. She frowned. “What in the world?”
He sighed and flexed his fingers. “It’s the brand. The mating brand.”